Walk a Mile in Their Shoes
by Cap-has-Attitude
Summary: What were the other characters thinking throughout the Harry Potter series? tis a series of oneshots regarding those characters' POVs.
1. The Road to Diagon Alley

Hi, Reader(s), just a little info about this. This first oneshot takes place as a Muggle Liason drives Hermione to Diagon Alley after she learns that she's a witch. I hope you enjoy it, Airy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor am I gaining anything from writing this fanfic other than personal saticfaction.

Magic. Could it really exist? I had my doubts. Out of every book I had read in my 11 years of life (and that is quite a long list of books, mind you) not one of them had mentioned the slightest possibility that magic could possibly exist. Books didn't lie did they? No they don't.

So I had come to the conclusion that this was some elaborate joke planned up by someone too cruel for words. I so desperately wanted this to be true. It would mean that all of the times that I had done strange things, my being shunned by anyone who was my age, my inability to keep my nose out of a book, none of it was my fault.

I mulled this over as the "witch" drove my parents and I through London. I kept my eyes trailed on a poufy grey cloud shaped like a thunderbolt. The "witch' would glance at my parents or me and it was very unnerving. The stiff and disbelieving silence was thicker than a bog. The "witch" cleared her throat.

"So, Hermione, are you looking forward to going to school?"

The question startled me. I hadn't given the elusive Hogwarts much thought.

"I suppose."

At this point, my dad decided to give his two cents. "She will not be going. She was already accepted at a school. Hermione is very smart." He proudly ruffled my bushy hair.

"But, sir!" the 'witch' said earnestly. "Hogwarts is the finest school one could go to. Why, I went there myself, not to long ago. I spent my years studying hard and getting Os and Es. Why, you could've knocked me over with a feather when I got accepted as prefect! I didn't make head girl, though. That went to Della Greengrass. Such a show off, that one, she never shut up about being pureblood."

My curiosity sparked. "Pureblood? What do you mean, miss?"

She frowned. "Oh, don't call me miss, it makes me feel old. I'm Jamie."

"Okay, Jamie, what did you mean about purebloods?"

Jamie gave a nervous twitter. "Oh, I keep forgetting how little you know! Purebloods are people that don't have muggle blood running through the veins. They think they're better than everyone, especially muggleborns. Of course, we all know that's as ridiculous as a phoenix doused in water. It doesn't matter what your blood looks like, so long as your magic is strong enough. But those people, they get that insane notion in their poor, dim heads and then they start to go bad. About a decade ago the worst one yet was defeated! It was such an exciting time."

My parents exchanged anxious looks; they didn't like were this was going.

"Who was it/ The really bad one?"

A shudder rippled through Jamie like a stone in a pond. She glanced around as if expecting the bad one to pop out from behind a crossing pedestrian. Whoever this person was, he must have been terrifying.

"His name was... and don't make me say this more than once, so listen closely, his name was Lord Voldemort." Jamie choked on the name and covered her mouth.

"What did Lor-"

"NO!" the eccentric young woman stomped on the breaks and narrowly avoided jostling someone's automobile. "Don't say that name. Whilst you are in my presence you shall refer to him as You-Know-Who, just like everyone else does. Do you understand?"

She gave me such a glare that I was forced to agree. "So what did this You-Know-Who do? What happened to him?"

"He terrorized muggles and muggleborns and anyone who sided with them. You-Know-Who killed, tortured, and manipulated his way into infamy. I don't think there is a soul who he didn't find him scary. Except Dumbledore, of course." I recognized Dumbledore from my letter, he was the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"You-Know-Who was steam-rolling the wizard community. Lethal and unstoppable, we all feared that he would never be defeated. And then, on Halloween night, You-Know who went after the Potters. James, Lily, and little Harry Potter lived in Godric's Hollow -- I believe there's some sort of memorial where their house stood. From what I understand, they were decent people and he had no reason to go after them (except for the fact that Lily Potter was muggleborn). He broke into their house and murdered Lily and James. Then, he turned his wand on their baby boy,"

Jamie paused dramatically. I found myself leaning forward in my seat, staring avidly at her.

"Harry Potter survived. He was the first wizard or witch to ever survive the killing curse. And on that night You-Know-Who was vanquished. No one knows where he is -- I reckon he's dead or in hiding. But, who cares?! The war is over at last! Harry Potter, who represents all things good, triumphed! I don't think anyone knows his location. I heard that he's about your age. Perhaps you'll get to meet him! But don't get your hopes up, there's no guarantee that he'll even go to Hogwarts." Jamie's eyes lit up as she sang Harry Potter's praises, she made him sound like a hero.

I truly hoped that I would meet this Harry Potter. He sounded fascinating.


	2. the Chaos of 9 and 34

The area between platforms 9 and 10 were as bustling as ever. Mum, George, Percy, Ron, Ginny, and I strode towards the barrier, bantering and bickering, pushing our trunks towards 9 and 3 quarters. The muggles' eyes flickered towards us, as if they didn't really want to look but were too curious not to sneak a peek.

I couldn't help but notice a boy who looked lost. He had black hair that stuck up like he had been struck by lightning, and green eyes that peered out from behind a pair of glasses. His trunk and owl were piled onto a trolley. The boy was so short that only his head was visible. The rest of him was hidden behind the trunk. Clearly he was a wizard and a first year as well.

"Packed with muggles, of course..." mum rambled before she came to a stop in front of the barrier. The boy glanced at us with renewed interest.

"Now what's the platform number?" mum asked grinning down at Ginny. Ginny bounced up and down, clutching mum's sleeve.

"Platform 9 and 3 quarters, mum can't I go!" I smothered a laugh with my fist. Ginny had been looking forward to going to Hogwarts as soon as she knew what Hogwarts was. Her enthusiasm grew larger every year. It was no use trying to remind her that she'd be going next year. I had never seen the appeal; Hogwarts was brilliant, of course, but there was still the fact that we had to go to lessons and take exams.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first." Percy backed his cart up a few feet, before taking a running start and diving at the barrier. A group of muggles walked by and by the time the crowd had cleared Percy was on the platform. The boy blinked and squinted at the barrier. Maybe he was muggle-born.

"Fred, you next." mum ushered me towards the barrier. George and I exchanged glances.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George." I retorted, "Honestly, woman, and you call yourself our mother. Can't you tell I'm George?"

Mum grimaced. "Sorry, George, dear."

I began to sprint towards the barrier. "I'm Only joking, I am Fred." The bricks were getting closer and closer. It was hard to believe that I wouldn't crash even though I had done this before. I darted through the wall and emerged on the platform. George joined me moments later.

The platform was a complete fiasco, which was probably why I liked it so much. Parents were hugging their children good bye; a huddle of students clustered around Lee Jordan, who was clutching a cardboard box, "Give us a look, Lee, go on.", Lee popped the lid off and the crowd shrieked, I would have to check that out later; steam rose from the mighty red train, twisting and curing before it dissolved.

I stood and observed the chaos with a satisfied air. There was something satisfying about seeing insanity that wasn't of my own making.

"Oy, Fred, C'mere and help." George yelled. He s standing with the boy with the untidy black hair.

Together the three of us lifted the boy's trunk onto the train. It was really heavy; I wondered if he kept his rock collection in it. Panting, I leaned against the train and felt the cool metal on my skin. The boy pushed his sweaty fringe off of his forehead. That was when I saw it.

Most people's foreheads were smooth and unblemished except for some acne or freckles. On the boy's forehead a thin red scar sat on his right temple. It was vivid and surreal, it automatically drew my eyes. Suddenly, I remembered the words from a bedtime story mum told us a long time ago.

"11 years ago, the world was a dark and scary place. You-Know-Who wreaked havoc on the muggles, muggleborns, and anyone who stood in his way. You couldn't know who to trust or who to confide in. Then, on Halloween night it all changed. You-Know-Who showed up at the Potters' home. He killed James Potter. He killed Lily Potter. Then, he turned his wand upon their son, little Harry Potter. He tried to kill Harry too, but he couldn't. No one knows how it happened but You-Know-Who vanished. All that was left was a lightning scar on Harry's forehead. And so Harry Potter is a hero. A real hero."

There it was; the lightning bolt scar.

"What's that?" I blurted out. George glanced at the scar and did a double take.

"Blimey, are you--" George asked.

"He is -- Aren't you?" I stared at him. The boy seemed confused and embarrassed.

"Who?"

"Harry Potter." George and I replied, at the same time.

"Oh, him." the boy blushed, "I mean, yes, I am." George and I gawked at him. We had just met the savior of the wizarding world. The Boy Who Lived was an eleven year old. Wow.

Harry turned a shade of red that rivaled the Weasley hair.

"Fred? George? Are you coming?"

"Coming mum!" George and I hurried to find mum. Students were starting to pour onto the train. I was too engrossed in my thoughts to care.

So that was Harry Potter.


End file.
